


we'll never be those kids again

by liamnoel



Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: (as always lmao), Angst, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, M/M, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Smut, fluff if you squint, noel gallagher's high-flying midlife crisis, this was SUPPOSED to be hatesex but... it didnt end up that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 03:30:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15548628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamnoel/pseuds/liamnoel
Summary: I could hate you nowIt’s quite alright to hate me nowWhen we both know that deep downThe feeling still deep down is good.2018





	we'll never be those kids again

**Author's Note:**

> GOD am i relieved to be finished with this fucking story!!!
> 
> the seed of the idea has been in my head ever since the twitter drama reeeeeally amped up in the earlier part of this year, but i didn't actually start writing it till maybe... may? and at that point i wrote a couple pages then put it off till really recently. as with most of my work i wrote like 80% of this in the last week and it's seriously exhausted me lol. but i've got a handful of more real, important, and stressful things happening, so like, its kind of a welcomed and much-needed distraction.
> 
> really, REALLY praying that SOMEONE will enjoy this story, because i liked the concept in my head but as i've had to read thru and edit it so many times, i'm sick of it.
> 
> (italicized sections are flashbacks if it wasnt clear)
> 
> lastly, i know a lot of it comes off hella confusing, but it should be cleared up by the end so bear with me!
> 
> title & lyrics are from IVY by frank ocean which is like. the most gorgeous song ever and also WOW does it fit well with liam&noel
> 
> okay xoxo ENJOY

_I hate him. I fucking hate him. More than I ever have before, maybe._

(Noel tries to rationalize this to himself even as he finds himself charging down a street in Highgate at eleven o’clock on a Saturday night.)

It fucking disgusts Noel, the way he can sense Liam’s energy before he even checks the address. Not in that fucking hippie way, just – fuck. It’s just _him._

(Nobody else could ever fucking understand.)

Just another reason to hate the cunt, for the way he twists everything up in Noel’s head – in his stomach, his mouth. He just. He just – he doesn’t know how to feel.

There’s no car in the drive. The missus must be out, then. _We can only hope._ Noel needs to get him alone.

(He won’t ruminate on why.)

There’s a warm light on in the front-room window; Noel can see the flicker of the telly against the wall, too. Before he can stop himself, before he can change his mind, he marches right up to the door and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t ring the bell; doesn’t knock. Just bangs his fist on the door, like a cop or summat.

He wants Liam to be shitting himself before he even sees his brother’s face.

(Wants to see how fucking afraid of him Liam still is.)

“What the fuck d’you-”

Liam yanks open the door, then nearly falls over, right there on his own front stoop. _Poor cunt, so fucking amazed to see me again after all this time._ But not surprised. No. Because Noel knows quite well that his brother’s been waiting around like a woman whose husband’s gone to war; that he’s probably had goddamn wet dreams about opening the door to find _him_ there.

The older man allows himself a moment to look Liam up and down. He’s skinnier than he’d been the last time they stood face to face. Healthier, too. Bit of a tan from jetting around the globe; a scruffy beard, something that’d never really been there past 1996, greying a bit as it reaches down to his chin. _God, when did he fucking grow up?_

From pictures Noel’s seen of him in recent months, he’d honestly pictured his brother in one of his navy jackets, an olive green one, maybe. But here, in the comfort of his home, as relaxed as a fucking sonic explosion like him could ever hope to be, he’s dressed in a well-fitting t-shirt – still navy, of course. He’s got on grey sweatpants, and when was the last fucking time he wore _those_ , Noel thinks. He’s barefoot, too. And he’s still two inches taller, just like he’s been for the last thirty years; but it sure doesn’t seem like it right now.

(He almost forgets Liam’s not sixteen, still, and that they’re not in their mother’s house. He almost forgets what he even came here for.)

Liam speaks before his brother gets the chance. “Noel… Jesus, man, what…” He takes a step forward, fucking _shaking._ So Noel does too. Smiles a bit. Puts his arms out like he’s going in for a hug, and Liam looks starstruck, like if he reached out his hands to touch, maybe he’d find there was nothing there – that Noel was all smoke, a ghost, a hallucination.

So real quick, while he still has the chance, Noel steels himself and punches his brother right in the fucking face.

He stumbles backwards, landing on his backside on the floor of the foyer, shouting _what the fuck, you fucking cunt_ while Noel steps inside and slams the door behind him, making sure to lock it, too. They’ll be needing some fucking privacy.

(Not – not like that. _Swear on my life._ A bit too familiar, that is, Noel thinks. But it’s not like that anymore. He’s not here for that. _Not that, not that, not that. Never that. Never again._ )

  
⸎⸎⸎

 _“Always lock the_ _fucking door,” Noel hisses at Liam._

_It’s 1995. Some stage tech’s nearly caught them snogging in the dressing room._

_Noel’d had him up against the wall, just about to give him a nice, dark lovebite right where everyone could see it; palm pressed tight over his stupid moaning mouth – and thank_ fuck _they’d been out of direct view of the door as it opened. Could’ve been quite a situation._

_This happens too much now._

_(It was somehow easier back when they had no money, nowhere to run off to. Somehow.)_

_Liam didn’t care. He’d never cared. He’d probably let a crew film them fucking and put it out as a music video; would suck Noel’s cock while he recorded the guitar bits for the next single. Would unzip his brother’s trousers and wank him off onstage in front of tens of thousands – if only Noel would say he loved him, there with the world watching._

  
⸎⸎⸎

“Hello again, _darling_ ,” Noel spits out while Liam’s scrambling back to his feet.

“Are you fuckin’ mental or som-”

He can’t even finish the word before Noel’s placed a firm hand on his chest, pushing him over again. His head just barely catches the edge of the coffee table, and he winces while his older brother smirks.

“Well, how’ve you been?” Noel steps over him while he speaks, placing his trainer-clad foot lightly over Liam’s torso, toes just below his ribs. He doesn’t intend to do anything with it, not really – but the singer _does_ make to get up, then, and, well – that just won’t do, will it?

Noel presses his foot down, just barely, taking the breath out of Liam’s lungs; he falls back to the rug, coughing. The foot goes with him.

Liam glares up at him. “Why the fuck’re you doing this, exactly?”

“Thought you wanted to see me again. Was I wrong?”

“Why are you _doing_ this, fuckin’ cunt!”

“You should fucking know that already.” He takes his foot away, leaning down a bit, kneeling over him – not enough for their legs to touch, _obviously_ – and replaces the foot with a hand, warningly. “You’re fucking stupid, but we both know you’re not _that_ stupid.” His saliva hits Liam’s face; he’s fucking _trembling_ now.

“Fuck off.”

“You _do_ know, don’t you?”

“Said fuck _off._ ”

“Y’know, it was fucking alright when it was just me you were talking about- tweeting about, whatever. Fuckin’ annoying, yeah. But I expected as much. Knew you’d never shut up about me, known it since the day I walked out. ‘cos you’ve always been fucking _obsessed_ with me. Always been following me around, trying to watch every fucking thing I ever did. Since the day you learned my name.”

He’s got to stop briefly to catch his breath, giving Liam a perfect opportunity to butt in. “Swear to God, I’ll fuckin’ kill you- fuckin’ lemme up-”

“Or was it _before_ that? Was it at the fuckin’ hospital? After you opened your eyes and saw Mam- was it _me_ you saw next?”

“You’re fuckin’ insane, what the _fuck_ are you on about?!”

Noel actually stops, then; he’s gone way off track since the moment he started speaking.

**⸎⸎⸎  
**

_If I could see through walls_  
_I could see you’re faking_  
_If you could see my thoughts  
_ _You would see our faces_

**⸎⸎⸎**

Liam isn’t moving and Noel’s taken aback when for a split second he _swears_ he’s looking into a mirror. He composes himself as quickly as possible, though, scrambling to get his words out before he loses his mind once again.

“Look, just- talk about me all you fucking want- I’m sure by now you know I can’t fucking do much to stop you. But keep my wife’s name out of your stupid fucking mouth. And my kids, too, while we’re at it. You should know they all fuckin’ despise you by now. You’ve never even _met_ Sonny, and _he_ even hates you already.”

“You dick, I called when he was born! It was _you_ who fuckin’-”

“Oh, no. Was _you_ who fucked it all up, Liam. You _could_ have had the chance, y’know- could’ve been the uncle you should’ve been. You know Donovan doesn’t even remember you?”

“Noel-”

“D’you even know what he thinks of you? He’s getting older now. Old enough to hear about all the vile bullshit you spew out.”

“S’not about your kids, _never_ about ‘em-”

“Everyone, fucking _everyone_ knows you’re desperate. How does that make you _feel?_ ”

“Desperate! I’m not fucking _desperate,_ you fuckin’- fuckin’ prick-”

Noel can’t stop himself. He leans down towards Liam’s parted lips, nearly close enough to whisper inside, “I want you to fucking promise me you won’t say a _word_ about them. Fucking never again. And I want you- want you to just _beg_ me to believe you’re even telling the fucking truth.”

Liam’s breath speeds up a bit. “Fuck you-”

“Mm-mm.” Noel shakes his head, just close enough to see the slight twitches and movements of Liam’s lips. “Need you to swear on your fucking _life_. You’ve gone too far, now.” He’s starting to lose a bit of his self-control – or maybe he never even had it at all. Grips some of his scruffy hair, fingers digging into his scalp, and pulls his head back sharply. Liam’s chin is up, now, eyes too far to look at his brother. It makes his hand shake a bit.

_Guess I forgot how much it burns to have his eyes on something other than me._

The singer can’t see Noel. But _God,_ Noel can fucking see _him._ It brings back too many fond memories. And awful ones – nights where he wished Liam had never been born. But they were _together_ for a reason, always were, no matter how much Noel hated to admit it. And that reason’s lying right underneath him, now, shaky little breaths leaving his open mouth, fucking radiating body heat.

_Guess it only took a few pathetic minutes of proximity for his fucking natural temptation to draw me right back in._

And so he breaks.

“How about this. You never speak about- or _to_ \- my fucking family again. And I’ll… I’ll give you what… give you what you want.” And Noel just can’t help it anymore. He lowers his hips down until they’re touching Liam’s own.

Liam whimpers like a fucking kicked dog.

“ _I’m_ your family…”

_Guess I never really cared._

“I know you want it, Liam. And I’ll fucking give it to you. Just fucking _promise_ me.”

“I promise, all right, just- just fuckin’-”

That’s all it takes. Noel lunges down, his teeth on Liam’s lips, only focused on feeling their tongues together as quickly as possible. The singer’s mouth is hot against his brother’s, and far too familiar. Noel knows where he bites the inside of his lip when he’s anxious; knows the shape of his teeth. Liam groans into his mouth and it feels like triumph. Fucking _power._

Pulling away from that warm mouth feels horrible, but Noel forces himself to do it. “You’re gonna give yourself to me.” It’s not a question.

Liam shudders; his brother can practically hear his heart pounding.

“Say _yes_.”

“ _Yes,_ ” Liam chokes out. Doesn’t need an ounce of convincing, really; knows exactly what he wants.

And knows just how to get it.

(Might’ve took nine fucking years this time – but fuck, somehow the sneaky little cunt _still_ got it in the end.)

“Prove to me you’re gonna behave.” Noel resituates his hands to hold down the younger man’s wrists. Liam pushes back a bit, just like he always has; and just like his big brother wants him to, he bucks his hips upwards.

“Tell me you love me,” he hisses.

“No.” His thick lower lip gets pulled between Noel’s teeth. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  
⸎⸎⸎

_Liam is eight when he gets his first black eye. He comes home from school scowling and sits on Noel’s bed staring at him._

_(Noel had his first black eye at six. It wasn’t from a kid at school.)_

_“Who started it, then?”_

_“He did.”_

_“Really?”_

_The boy scoffs. “Well, almost, right. He was- he was being stupid! Fuckin’ stupid!”_

_He’s not supposed to swear; their mam would be scolding him, but Noel doesn’t tell him not to. “Looks like you’re gettin’ yourself into shit you can’t handle. Gotta learn to walk away.”_

_“You can’t tell me nothin’, you fight too, you do!”_

_“Whatever.” Noel rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to me, then. Your choice.” He makes to get up, but there’s a grip on his sleeve as he does. When he turns, Liam’s staring up at him, right eye big and blue, lip quivering._

_“Noel.”_

_“What? You gonna cry? C’mon, you’re not a baby or somethin’, are you?”_

_“No! ‘m not!”_

_“Well what you cryin’ for, then? Does it hurt?” Despite himself, Noel knows he’s concerned for his little brother - how could he not be._

_“It don’t hurt.” His lip’s still trembling but he squares his chin up like he’s tough._

_“I don’t believe you.”_

_“Don’t hurt, don’t hurt, don’t hurt-”_

_“Then shut up about it!” He tries to shake his arm from Liam’s grasp, but he can’t, or maybe he would ruin his jumper if he did, the one Mam made for him this winter. Or maybe – maybe he cares, even though he pretends like he doesn’t._

_“You’re a dick!” He’s not supposed to be saying that, either._

_“Fuckin’ leave me alone. Or d’you want another black eye?”_

_Liam lets go of him then; he whimpers and draws his legs up to his chest, still trying to look angry, but he’s failing. He’s about to cry, one eye wide and blue, one swelling shut and purple-black, and all he looks like is a little ball of fear._

_Noel regrets what he’s said – even if he’d meant it. He sits back down on the bed, and Liam flinches when he moves in closer, going rigid as Noel wraps his arms around him._

_“C’mon, our kid... didn’t mean it, y’know that,” he lies._

_His brother squirms and tries to push Noel away with his elbows and knees but it doesn’t do much good, and within ten seconds he just lets himself be held, buries his head into Noel’s chest and starts crying._

_“I hate you,” he sobs. “I hate you.”_

_Noel doesn’t know how to respond. So he doesn’t. He lets Liam rub his runny nose against the scratchy fabric of his jumper, and he wants to push his brother off him in disgust, but that’ll only make him even more furious and he’ll end up doing something idiotic like telling Mam that_ Noel _was the one who punched him in the face._

_“Do you love me?” Liam’s breath heaves and his little voice shakes._

_Again, he doesn’t know how to respond. He tries to rub his hand over the kid’s back but Liam wriggles out of his grasp; he keeps his fingers tightly twisted into Noel’s jumper and looks up at him, pleading._

_“Noel! Do you? D’you love me?”_

_“Stop,” Noel mutters shortly. He hates talking feelings and Liam fucking knows it. The kid’s lucky his older brother is even sitting here comforting him - well,_ trying _to._

_“No! Tell me you love me!”_

_Noel stands, then, despite Liam’s desperate hand still gripping his sleeve. He’s started crying again, sniffling around his words. Noel yanks his arm roughly out of the child’s grasp and leaves the room._

_“Tell me you love me!” Liam shrieks hysterically. “Noel! You’re stupid! Tell me you love me!”_

_He’s at the bottom of the stairs when Liam stumbles down behind him and starts hitting him with hands too small to do any damage. It will be years before he’s strong enough to really hurt Noel._

_“Tell me you love me,” Liam sobs. Noel won’t look at him,_ can’t _look at him - can’t bear how broken and pathetic he knows his brother looks._

_Noel slams the front door behind him. He’s two blocks away when he notices that his sleeve is unravelling._

  
⸎⸎⸎

“You said you’d give me what I want.”

The guitarist laughs sharply. “I _know_ what you want. Know you better than yourself… always fuckin’ have.”

“You don’t know _nothin’_ about me-”

“Oh, shut up. I’ve been watching the lust drip off you the last _decade_.” Noel leans back in, nuzzling against the side of his brother’s face; gives him a taste of the affection he so desperately craves. He lowers his voice to a rough whisper. “How much did you touch yourself, Liam? How often did you pretend it was _me?_ ”

“Fuck off with the questions, you dick. Wanna kiss you.” Liam pushes himself up on his elbows. “Just, fuck- don’t fuckin’ stop now.”

“Get back down.” Noel tries to push him back, but the singer’s not having any of that. “Are you fucking listening to me? I said get bac-”

“ _No,_ ” Liam growls. He lunges up, pushing Noel off of himself, landing him flat on _his_ back. Noel’s got to admit, he’s actually a bit surprised.

_Imagine that – never thought it’d feel so good to have him all unpredictable again._

“Oh?”

Liam gets up on his knees, shuffling towards his brother. “Yeah, _oh._ Cunt. Stupid fuckin’ cunt.” He looms above Noel, bares his teeth. “’m not gonna be your _bitch._ No fuckin’ way.”

“Stupid kid, y’always _have_ been. Will be till the day you die.”

Gripping a hand in Noel’s hair, the other in the fabric of his shirt, Liam climbs up on top of him. “You’re _wrong._ ”

“I’m never wrong. You bitch.”

  
⸎⸎⸎

_“I don’t like her name being there.”_

_Noel scrapes his fingernails against the ink on Liam’s arm as he hisses in his ear. They’re both shirtless and they’re both hard and they’re both high and they’re both newlyweds._

_“Yeah? Well, I don’t like you bein’ fuckin’ married. But you still went and did_ that _anyway, didn’t you?”_

_The hypocrisy doesn’t even seem to dawn on him, and Noel ignores the barb. “You know you’re not supposed to get tattoos while you’re drunk? Everyone ends up regrettin’ them.”_

_“I don’t regret it,” Liam taunts. It’s a lie and they both know it._

_“Maybe I’ll_ make _you regret it.”_

_“Fuckin’ how?”_

_“Well, first off, I’m gonna suck your cock better than_ she _ever could.” He tugs off Liam’s trousers as he says it, sitting up and leisurely starting to stroke him._

_Liam’s breath hitches and he licks his lips unconsciously. “Are you.”_

_“Yeah. And then…” Noel moves down, breathing over Liam’s cock, making him shake. “Then I’m gonna fuck you like the_ bitch _you are.” He sucks the head into his mouth, very suddenly, and the combination of this action and his words leads Liam to let out a sound somewhere between fury and arousal._

_“I’m not your bitch,” he growls._

_“Tell that to me when you’re on your fuckin’ hands and knees. When you’re screaming my name, fuckin’_ begging _me to keep going.”_

_“Fuck,” Liam moans, and he gives up on talking back, because Noel’s head is going down, now, and he’s showing him how easily he can take it deep, take it all the way._

_(He wishes he could tell Noel he was wrong, that Patsy’s better at it. And he loves Patsy, really does, and he loves the way she gets him off… but there’s_ nobody _who gets him off like Noel does.)_

_“Be a good little bitch for me, yeah?” His brother moves lower, pushing Liam’s legs apart and planting kisses along his inner thighs. “I’m gonna fuck that tattoo right out of your skin.”_

  
⸎⸎⸎

“Don’t call me that,” Liam growls warningly.

Noel smirks, laughing while he spits the word out again. “ _Bitch._ ”

“You fucking _cunt_.” He uses his leverage to cuff Noel on the side of his head. Noel looks at him dangerously, then.

“Is that how it’s gonna be, then? You wanna do that?”

Liam laughs coldly. “Yeah, man.”

“God, a decade older and you _still_ never think things through.” Noel lunges upward, punching Liam square in the jaw. His ring catches the singer’s lip, splitting it, and Liam gasps and splutters, blood dripping out of his mouth.

“What the _fuck!_ ”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you expect me to sit here and just _let_ you hit me?”

“I was just fuckin’-”

“Shut _up._ ” Noel hits him again, on his cheekbone this time. “Think you forgot how much I love hurting you, huh? Feels good.”

“You’re a stupid fucking cunt, fuck you, _fuck_ …” Despite how desperate he is to appear tough, fucking always, Noel knows he’s at a breaking point.

And he’s right. Liam starts to cry.

The guitarist hums quietly and strokes Liam’s hair across his forehead, his gentleness at odds with the energy in the room. “Look at you. Forty-five years old, and you’re bawling like a little kid.”

Liam slaps his hand away. “Fuck off,” he grits out, voice shaking, and he pushes himself up on his elbows, then his knees, meeting Noel’s stance, and before the older man can duck, he’s clocked Noel right back. He doesn’t stop there; he takes advantage of the split-second Noel’s doubled over, and grips him by the collar, pulling him down to roll on the floor like they’re young again, and in the process a few buttons come free, and suddenly he’s tearing the fabric clean off Noel’s body, sleeve ripped. Destroyed.

“Oh, you little _shit._ ” Noel is fuming. How fucking _dare_ he. That shirt had cost him 300 quid, thank you very much, and besides that, it was one of Sara’s favorites.

(Maybe Liam could just sense it subconsciously.)

His younger brother just laughs, the tears in his eyes having dried up. He digs his nails into Noel’s bare skin where he grips his waist. “Somebody’s enjoying himself,” he whispers, glancing down pointedly at Noel’s jeans. The fabric’s stretched tight.

“I fucking hate you, Liam.”

“Yeah? Looks like your cock don’t agree.”

“I’m gonna _kill_ you, little fucking cunt.”

“Real original.” Liam rolls his eyes, climbing back on top to pin Noel down. “Stop fuckin’ lying to yourself. You know what you want. _I_ do.”

“You don’t know _any_ thi-”

Noel’s sentence dies with a humiliating moan as Liam sits down fully on him, rocking his hips forward. His arse is pressing right up against the older man’s hardness; he can feel the cleft of it through the sweatpants, riding up a bit, and he’s sure if he flipped Liam onto his stomach and looked, he’d see his backside defined in all its glory, outlined as if he were wearing nothing at all.

 _He was fucking_ made _to take cock, I swear._

The friction is too good, the pressure too much, and he forgets what’s happening and why he’s here and he lets Liam ride him, slowly, _too_ slowly, and he groans from the back of his throat. And Liam keeps moving, slowly, _too_ slowly.

  
⸎⸎⸎

_“More, please, more…”_

_Noel laughs lightly and smiles up at his baby brother where he’s staring at him, pleading. “You like that?”_

_“Noel, c’mon, fuck!”_

_“Mm-mm. You said you wanted to take it slow.”_

_“Fucking shit,” Liam groans, his head falling back onto the pillow as Noel pushes his finger a bit further in. He curls it upwards and rubs it slowly against that spot he knows makes Liam go crazy. The boy whines, bucking his hips, and Noel feels a surge of arousal in his gut as he watches Liam’s cock drip a little puddle of precum onto his stomach. He presses a bit harder and even more leaks out, the clear fluid stretching out in a string from his tip to his belly._

_“Drippin’ so good for me,” Noel breathes out, and his brother moans at his words. “Gettin’ wet just like a girl, huh?”_

_Liam brings a hand up to hide his blushing face. “Fuck off, you dickhead!”_

_“Alright then.” Noel pulls his finger out and receives a glare in return. “What? Thought you wanted me to fuck off?”_

_“Not like_ that! _” Liam pushes his hips forward, reaching down to try and bring Noel’s finger back in. “C’mon, you cunt, s’been, like, an hour… gimme two this time.” Noel tsks and strokes the pad of his forefinger against Liam’s hole._

 _“You’re the one who suggested this. Remember?” He shoves just the one back inside Liam, all the way to the last knuckle, stroking his insides and lifting just_ barely _in order to stimulate his prostate again, groaning a bit at the way Liam’s body shakes._

_It was, in fact, Liam’s idea._

_Who knows where, but the kid had learned what tantric sex was._ It’s- it’s true love, Noel, _he’d gushed,_ Brings you closer to each other, and, like, the universe, ‘n that. An’ makes you come even harder, too, man.

_And, well. Considering how good it already felt to fuck Liam, he figured multiplying it would be nothing short of mindblowing._

_Plus, especially now they were both married, their time together was spread thin, and the both of them were usually so hungry for each other that it never lasted very long. They’d go more than once, sometimes, but truth be told, Noel felt quite pathetic when he couldn’t even last fifteen minutes, even when Liam came even quicker._

_(Liam was always a bit quick. But Noel fucked a second orgasm out of him most of the time, anyway.)_

_So this time he made a concentrated effort to draw it out as long as possible. Meg would be gone the rest of the weekend and Liam might as well be living with him, now, considering the way he’d strewn his personal belongings all around the master suite._

_“I changed my mind- Noel,_ fuck, _” Liam interrupts himself as Noel casually adds a second finger, soaked in lube, and fucks them both slowly in and out of his brother. “Fuck. Want you…”_

_“Mm? Want me where, love?”_

_Liam whines and meets Noel’s eyes. “You fucking know.”_

_“Do I now?” A third finger and the singer gasps, making Noel smirk. “Be good, ask for what you want. Don’t make me read your mind.”_

_“Want you… want you inside me.”_

_“Yeah, that’s right… but it’s gonna be slow, y’know. Just like this.” He punctuates the sentence with a jab of his fingertips against Liam’s spot, slowing down again afterwards, in and out leisurely as if his cock isn’t ready to burst out of his trousers already._

_“I_ know _. Just. Fuck. Just do it already.”_

_They will spend four and a half hours in bed that night, longer than the last two months combined. Noel lets Liam fall asleep with him, and he wakes up with his brother pressed up against him from behind, naked and calm and holding him around his stomach. There are dried tears on his cheekbones._

_Noel turns around, kisses the singer’s eyelids, and gazes at him until he stirs and blinks into the waking world, a smile already on his face._

  
⸎⸎⸎

Liam keeps grinding around on top of him. When he moans loudly, though, it brings Noel back, _what the absolute_ fuck _am I doing, this isn’t what I came here for._ He lets himself stay in the moment, lets his cock get harder and harder, lets himself indulge in the thought of sliding inside his brother again after so many years –

“I can take it better than Sara ever could,” Liam taunts in a singsong voice.

Noel throws Liam off him, disgusted.

(Or just faking it well, maybe – for his own sake as much as Liam’s.)

“You haven’t fucking changed, have you? You’re still a fucking whore,” Noel spits. Hurt flashes in Liam’s eyes and he _almost_ feels bad. He knows his brother doesn’t much like that insult. He used to use it sometimes when he was fucking Liam, and if the younger man was aroused enough it was usually fine. But apart from that, it seemed to cut him to the core. Easy button to push to make him fight back.

“Right. That’s it, then.” Liam stands, brushes down his clothes, and laughs sadly. “You can fucking leave now, you mental cunt.” He turns on his heel, heading towards the stairs.

Noel’s mistake – as always – is to follow him.

“Don’t walk away now. We’ve got a few fucking things to discuss, Liam.”

(Though he’s starting to forget exactly what those things are.)

All he gets in return is silence, and as he trails behind the singer, his patience only wears thinner and thinner. Liam is turning his own game on him, meeting anger with silence, and Noel can feel how infuriating it is, now. Under his skin. He doesn’t feel like he’s walking, feels like he’s hovering, like everything he knew to be true is gone, out of reach, where the fuck has he gone?

And he wonders if maybe, these past few years of doing that to Liam – of refusing to give him the time of day, meeting every ounce of passion with disdain – maybe _that’s_ where it all got fucked up between them. Why Liam acts the way he does.

He reaches the bedroom doorway ten seconds after Liam does. “Fucking _listen_ to me, you-”

Liam is facing away from him, pulling his shirt over his head. He doesn’t turn around, just laughs a bit. “What’s that?”

“Stop it- just, what are you…”

Liam’s sweatpants hit the floor. There’s nothing underneath.

Noel’s mouth is perilously dry and he gulps and he tries to draw some moisture out of his salivary glands but apparently, his body’s in shutdown mode. Drier and drier. Death Valley like it’s the year 2000.

“You couldn’t wait till I was out of the room?!”

(He _should_ be shading his eyes, should be turning away, but he and Liam and God himself all know that he _can’t_ , at this point. It’s just. It’s been too long. Too fucking long.)

Despite the fact that Liam’s getting older, from this angle, his body somehow isn’t. Maybe Noel’s eyes are just playing tricks on him. It doesn’t seem right. His brother’s arse is still just as round; firm but soft, barely hairy, paler than the rest of him. Noel’s hands are just _itching_ to touch. He shoves them in his pockets before he goes and does it, because, fuck, he knows all bets are off once _that_ happens.

“What’s the big deal, man?” Liam smirks at him over his shoulder briefly before sauntering into the master bath. His face holds a glimmer of the last millennium. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

_What the fuck did I do to be cursed with a life full of Liam?_

Noel steps hesitantly into the bedroom. He hears the water turn on, the glass door open and shut, and as he leans in the doorway to the bathroom he’s both relieved and disappointed that he can’t see the shower from where he’s standing.

“See, you agreed to something before, remember that?”

“No,” Liam says over the sound of the water, and they both know he’s not _that_ stupid.

“You weren’t supposed to talk about her.”

“You weren’t _supposed_ to fuck your brother, man. You weren’t _supposed_ to leave the band. You weren’t supposed to fucking break into my house in the fuckin’ middle of the night- but look who went and did it all anyway.”

Noel doesn’t have a good response for that.

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” Liam teases, a grin evident in his voice. It’s just the way it’s been so often before – Noel _thinks_ he knows the little cunt, but he can’t fucking figure him out. Is he angry, is he happy, does he need him, does he hate him – well, it’s all of it. Of course it fucking is. Liam is all things at once, sometimes, so often, so much, everything, why is he _everything_ –

It’s only been forty-five seconds but suddenly Liam’s standing in front of him dripping water on the tile in nothing but a navy-blue towel and Noel could swear he can’t remember the door opening again, can’t tell if the water’s running or not, _was it ever even on?_ Liam’s holding his hands and he doesn’t know why. Noel’s ears are clogged and there’s water spilling out and he doesn’t have a shirt on anymore.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t have a clock.”

“ _What?_ ”

“What?”

“Liam, what are you-”

Liam smiles and his voice is younger somehow. “I missed you, Noel.”

“…so I heard.”

His hair is longer and he looks like Sara.

“You look nice tonight, man.”

The singer takes a step towards him and another and now they’re standing close enough to touch.

Noel hates how hard it gets him.

“What do you want, Liam.”

And Liam doesn’t say a word; just takes his brother’s face between his palms and leans in to kiss him.

It’s fucking strange; Noel knows – _does he?_ – that they were _just_ out in the sitting room, pressed up right against each other; but in the moment it feels as though it’s their first kiss in years. Like whatever happened out there might as well have occurred half a century ago. It’s as jarring and confusing as Liam himself is.

The kiss _should_ be sweet and tender, but after five seconds Noel’s too hungry – he’s fucking _starving_ – and he digs his fingers into Liam’s waist and pulls him against his body. And he _should_ be getting all wet from the droplets of water that still linger after Liam’s shower but there don’t seem to be any and he can’t find it in himself to wonder why. He’s far too busy trying to devour his brother’s mouth. He bites at his split lip and tastes iron, and he pulls away when Liam whines.

“Fucking- _ow,_ man,” Liam says, half-smiling, and then he spits some blood onto Noel’s ruined shirt.

“If you think _that_ hurts you’re in for a few surprises, lad.” Noel can’t wait, he pulls the towel off the younger man’s body, stroking the skin of his back for just a few moments before he pushes him carelessly onto the rug. Liam lands on his knees and looks up at Noel, lips parted. Reverent.

It’s late now – he doesn’t know _how_ late, but _any_ time is too late, really – and there’s no more time for fucking around.

“You ready to get fucked in the mouth?”

“Try me,” Liam smirks.

“Let’s see if your throat’s gotten tighter, yeah?” Noel brushes the back of his hand along Liam’s cheek, smiling as those eyes slip shut. “’m sure the rest of you has.”

“Mm… let’s see if your cock’s gotten any smaller, then. If that’s even _possible._ ”

(As if he hasn’t choked on it a hundred times before.)

His brother drags nails down his cheek at that. “Fucking- you disrespectful little whore. On your knees for your big brother and you think it’s okay to talk back? A _good_ whore does what he’s told.” He knows his own words should make him fucking sick but all he feels is _need._

Liam opens his eyes again, a playful glint appearing in the irises. “Hey, fucking watch out talking like that, man… you don’t want me to bite your dick off, huh?”

Noel ignores his comment. He’s good at that. “’ave you sucked anyone off since last time we… last time?”

(He doesn’t know what to call it – he doesn’t know what to call _anything_ they have.)

Liam’s eyes are ice and fire all at once. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The guitarist truly can’t guess if he has or not, and he knows Liam’s not going to tell him. But he was _always_ a natural, even when he was still so fucking young – and how could he _not_ be, with those lips? – so Noel knows that even if he’s out of practice, his little brother will still take it better than anyone else he’s ever fucked.

“I should hope not. Don’t wanna share this pretty mouth with any other fucker.” He thumbs Liam’s pink lips open, rubbing along the inside of the bottom one before he tilts the singer’s head back. Running a hand down his throat, he hums appreciatively. “You ready to feel me in here?”

“Stop talking, cunt.”

Noel’s ready, and his brother clearly is, too, so he undoes his fly; the barely-there groan he hears Liam let out as he pulls himself out of his briefs, it fills his ego more than near anything else could. He hooks his thumbs over Liam’s bottom teeth, pulling his jaw open wide.

“Here y’go,” he whispers, and guides his cock inside.

He can’t help but moan, right away, _God,_ the kid’s mouth is warm. And he knows Liam will want at least a minute or two of taking it slow but he just fucking _can’t –_ being inside him feels too fucking good, and besides, the stupid little bastard needs a punishment.

Just like always, Noel’s gonna have to be the one to dole it out.

But he doesn’t mind.

Liam makes a little sound of panic as Noel pushes further, and the older man knows he shouldn’t be so turned on by that. His brother is mumbling something – trying to tell him _fuck, slow down,_ probably, but he doesn’t even _care._

“Don’t be a fucking bitch about it, we both know you can take it.”

(A challenge to his pride is always the best way to get Liam to push his own limits.)

He glares right up at Noel, narrowing his eyes and lowering his brows, and he tightens his lips and _sucks_.

“Fuck yeah. _That’s_ it.”

The singer hums around the dick in his mouth; Noel can tell Liam remembers how much he loves that, and the thought of it makes him grip his soft hair even firmer than he already was.

“ _Shit,_ that’s good. Have you been practicing?”

Liam shakes his head _no,_ and maybe he hasn’t been on his knees for anyone since Noel – probably hasn’t, honestly – but it wouldn’t be much of a surprise to find out he’d been practicing on his own fingers. Noel had caught him doing that once, back when the boy was only seventeen, and he’d teased him for it endlessly even though it _had_ gotten him pretty hard. Liam had shouted _shut up, you dick, ‘s not funny!_ and shoved Noel in the shoulder and they’d rolled around in a mock struggle on Liam’s bed, and before long they were both laughing and Noel remembers how warm his chest had felt as he saw happy little tears in the corners of his brother’s eyes when he pressed their foreheads together.

And there was another time he’d seen Liam suck his own fingers like that, as deep into his throat as he could get ‘em – Noel had asked him to, that time, and afterwards he let Liam get on top and ride him as slow as he pleased. It was some lost moment in the 90s, the year is fuzzy in his mind, and he can’t remember much of it, except the flowers on the wallpaper, and the temperature of Liam’s body; his familiar smell, and above all else, the tenderness he treated Noel with when he saw him the next morning. The whole band, the crew, all of them had been just astounded.

**⸎⸎⸎**

_In the halls of your hotel_  
_Arm around my shoulder so I could tell_  
_How much I meant to you  
_ _Meant it sincere back then_

**⸎⸎⸎**

“Little slag. You’re fucking disgracing yourself, y’know? Fuckin’- _cultural icon,_ or whatever, everybody thinks you’re _the man_ , man… but look at you now.” He smiles as if he pities Liam, even though he doesn’t. And then he pulls _just_ a bit harder on the singer’s hair – _mmmphbm,_ Liam moans – and shoves him down till his nose is pressed right up against Noel’s body.

Liam splutters and gags and Noel sees his eyes widen for a second, but he seems to remember quickly that he’s being challenged. He digs his nails into Noel’s hips – both, Noel thinks, to get some leverage but also to distract himself from the intense discomfort he must be feeling – and when the guitarist pulls back, he gasps as Liam drags his hips right back forward, gagging himself on his brother’s cock. Fucking _moaning_ while he does it.

“Liam,” Noel groans out, even though he wants to be cold and callus, but God, his brother’s doing such a fucking good job that he almost deludes himself into thinking he’s made up for all those years of torment. “So fucking good.”

 _Mmmm,_ Liam hums as he keeps going, then sits still, letting Noel do the work and fuck his throat, letting his saliva spill out the sides of his mouth around his brother’s cock. He looks so fucking immaculate – on his knees in prayer.

Noel doesn’t know exactly what he can give him, not yet, but he senses it won’t be enough.

The singer’s beard is scratchy every time it meets Noel’s skin, and at the thought, he finds himself imagining it’s disappearing, _what the fuck is happening,_ and Liam’s throat constricts around him and he fucking _has_ to pull out before he finishes inside that gorgeous warmth.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes.

“’s good?” Liam smiles sweetly like he doesn’t know the answer.

“Fuck,” Noel chuckles. “You know.”

He has to push Liam off of him, regrettably, as the younger man leans in and rubs his face – which suddenly feels deceptively smooth – against Noel’s wet cock, even moving down to suck one of his balls into his mouth.

“Fucking-”

Liam looks up at him and his eyes are puppy-dog wide, shining with faux submission. “If you were gonna call me a whore again, don’t even _think_ about it.”

(Noel was.)

But he forces himself to revise that plan, and exhales the first thing that comes to mind.

“Fucking… good boy.”

His brother’s eyes scrunch up as he smiles gleefully. _Are you sixteen or what?_ His hair’s longer than it was ten minutes ago – Noel knows because he can actually get a firm grasp on it, pull it taut.

“Love you, Noel.”

Noel refuses to try and figure it out, if he’s hallucinating, refuses to say _I love you too._ He pushes Liam down onto his back, humming at how demure he looks with his knees bent up. His legs are too close together; Noel shoves them open with both hands.

“Look at you.”

He stares hungrily at his hard cock, still just as flushed and beautiful as it was the last time he saw it. It’s been ages, but Noel’s seen a few dicks that almost disgusted him, ones he had been more or less planning to interact with. Until he got a look at them and _ugh._ What can he say; he’s always been picky. It’s a blessing that Liam – the man he’s wanted more than any other, his whole life through – he looks just _perfect._ Always has.

Liam turns his head to the side, face reddening, _embarrassed_ – Noel’s always found it such a thrill to have that effect on him, considering how goddamn shameless his brother manages to be in every single aspect of his life.

Now he can read the expression on Liam’s face like a cheap tabloid cover, all bolded font and screaming at him from the newsstand _I’m ready for you._

Scratching his nails down the singer’s stomach, he makes Liam laugh breathily in soft puffs of air and squirm around on the rug, ticklish as ever. “ _Noel!_ ” he fucking _giggles,_ and fuck, Noel’s heart aches at how delighted and carefree his little brother sounds, fuckin’ hell, he’s so fucking _cute._

“Do something for me.”

“What?”

 _Playtime is over._ “’s about time for _some_ one to do as I say. All the way. Gonna _give_ yourself to me. Remember?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Hope you’re better at following directions than you used to be, sweetheart.”

**⸎⸎⸎**

_“Th’ fuck are you doing? Put that out.”_

_Liam stretches his legs out, crossing them on the table in front of him._

_“You fucking listening? I said put it out.” Noel waits a beat but when he gets no response he reaches down, yanking the cigarette out of his brother’s mouth and stamping it out in the ashtray, broken in two._

_“Fuckin’- hey! What the fuck, man?!”_

_“We’re recording a record here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”_

_“So what!”_

_“So you’ve got fuckin’ standards to meet, you twat. Did y’hear yourself on Morning Glory today? Fucking shameful, that was.”_

_The singer only lets hurt flash in his eyes for a split second before Noel sees him blink it away, furrowing his brows. “Wasn’t ‘cos I was smoking. It was- you were, you were doin’ me head in. All that stopping me, tellin’ me to start over again. Treating me like I’m a fucking kid.”_

_Noel scoffs. “You can’t just keep blaming it all on me, you arsehole. And if you insist on acting like a kid, then what the fuck do you expect? Fact is, you were_ shite, _and there’s no way I’m letting anybody in_ my _band do a fucking bad job, not anymore. Alright?”_

 _“You think- you think- you think I can’t sing? Think you could do better? Then_ you _fuckin’ go and do it, fuck- I don’t fuckin’ care, dickhead!”_

 _“Maybe you should_ try _it sometime, then, yeah? Try giving a fuck about something for once in your life.”_

_“Fuck you,” Liam snarls, avoiding eye contact as he stands, searching around him for his pack of smokes, grumbling until he finds it on the floor. “I’m off.”_

_“_ Off? _” Noel snorts. “Off_ where? _”_

_“To the fuckin’ pub. Can’t stand here lookin’ at your fuckin’ miserable face a second longer, you cunt.”_

_“Oh, no. No nights out for you. Not when we’re recording. You fuckin’ know that, Liam, Jesus, that’s why we’re all the fuckin’ way out here. To… make… a… re… cord.” Each syllable gets drawn out, like the way you’d teach a new word to a child, and Noel takes pride in the fury it brings Liam. “You’ll be gone all night and we’ll never hear the end of it tomorrow. Well, if you even bother to grace us with your presence, that is.”_

_“Whatever.” Liam pushes past his brother, pulling his jacket off the hook on the wall. “I hate you.”_

_“Stop.”_

_He’s actually surprised when Liam does, even if it’s only briefly._

_“Stay here.”_

_Liam turns, giving Noel a face that says_ you’ve got five fucking seconds to actually give me a good reason why. _It’s a bit more complicated than that, though, because yes, he wants a reason, but the guitarist knows him well enough to know that he wants forgiveness above all else._

 _So Noel looks back at him, letting heat fill his gaze. He doesn’t say a word; just licks his lips. It’s the way he gets out of things all the fucking time, now, because in Liam’s mind, it means_ I love you _and he is fucking Pavlovian in the way he salivates for Noel._

_(Sit, stay, good dog. Liam is well-trained.)_

_Ten minutes later and he’s making good use of his little brother’s hand. Liam probably thinks that if he does this, he’ll be allowed to do whatever he likes and that Noel won’t care. Fucking idiot. They’d kissed a bit but Noel’s withholding it, now, if only because of how much he loves the way Liam begs. He has to save up his energy here, make sure to keep his brother satisfied enough to be relatively calm, while also needy enough to stay in rather than going out on the town. It’s a perilous balance. Noel finally feels he’s getting it right down the middle as he thrusts his hips harder against Liam’s wrist, feeling the boy exhale against his neck. He’s behaving now. Just perfect._

_But it’s not long before the guitarist makes the mistake of breathing out_ I like you so much more when you do what I say, _and Liam finally gets sick of being made to obey._

 _He goes out to the pub while Noel sighs and zips up his trousers and tries to write a new song, and he doesn’t turn back up till the next day at one in the afternoon, and of course, his voice is too wrecked to sing a single note. He spends the evening fuming while he glares at Noel, trying his best to convey the message,_ this is what you get when you try and tell me what to do.

**⸎⸎⸎**

“Stretch yourself out.”

Liam looks back up at his brother and his blush spreads down to his neck. “Noel, c’mon...”

“Fuckin’ do it. No talking back. You want me, don’t you?”

“Just- _you_ do it!”

“Hmm... nah.” He barely even pretends to consider it. “Think you’re gonna do it yourself. I’m sure you’ve gotten by without me, ‘aven’t you?”

“I don’t- I don’t do... _that_.”

Noel makes a face that says _really?_ and shakes his head. “Liar. You know how. Let’s go. Spread ‘em.” He sits on his knees in front of Liam, roughly pulling his legs open when the younger man makes no move to comply. “God, are you fuckin’ deaf? You heard me. Fuckin’ fingers inside. _Now_.” He holds the lube out to Liam.

The singer takes it, eyes glimmering with a mix of annoyance and arousal. “Fine. Fuckin’ dictator, you are.”

“Have to be, with a fucking disobedient little cunt like you around. C’mon.” He pushes Liam firmly onto his back on the fluffy rug, lifting his thighs up and spreading him open. “God... look at you.”

He hasn’t seen this part of Liam in nine years. He’s tight. Not that he’d ever been loose, really; but Noel’s sure it’s like a vice in there, now, after so long without a good fucking.

“Make sure to get ‘em nice and slick. Don’t wanna bleed when I fuck you, eh?”

Liam’s face flushes red; Noel pulls back and watches in awe as his brother’s thick index finger pushes its way inside.

“ _Nnh_ ,” Liam whines, groaning deep in his throat as he slowly works further in.

“C’mon, baby. I know you remember where that spot is.”

Liam tilts his head back, eyes squeezed shut, showing off his throat as he moans loudly. He curls his finger inside himself and God, he’s dripping all over his stomach, getting himself all dirty.

“Yeah... stroke it for me.”

Noel can’t believe his eyes, really, can’t believe the little slag in front of him. Fully grown but reduced to a shameless mess, moaning like he’s nineteen, back when he used to blush scarlet as Noel ordered him to fuck himself open.

(There were a few times he demanded the boy squeeze four inside, and his stupid whore of a baby brother fucking went and did it. And Noel knows the singer wouldn’t be able to handle that today, but he wants it so badly; wants to see Liam’s hole gaping a little when he pushes his hand back out, stretched and red and just _begging_ to be fucked.)

“Alright, that’s good. Now get another in there.”

Liam gasps, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“ _Can’t_?” Noel laughs harshly. “How the fuck are you expecting to take my cock, then?”

“Fuckin’ Christ, I’m tellin’ you, I _can’t_. ‘s’not gonna work,” Liam growls.

“You’re gonna _make_ it work. You hear me?”

Liam doesn’t respond, just keeps pushing his finger against his prostate, fucking in and out a bit, leaking precum all over his tanned stomach, covered in soft brown hair.

“Liam.” Noel grips a hand into his short hair, digging his nails into the scalp and bringing his head up at a painful angle. “Did you hear me?”

Liam shakes his head back and forth, more to loosen Noel’s firm grip than to say no, but it doesn’t do much good. “Yeah, I heard you, you cunt.”

“Put another fucking finger inside yourself. _Now_. Do you understand?” He speaks slowly, like Liam isn’t capable of understanding him otherwise. 

“And what are you gonna do if I don’t, huh?”

Noel glares warningly down at him, pulling his hair. “I’m gonna fuck you dry. ‘s that really what you want? Want it to tear you up?”

“ _No_.”

“No, you don’t. So we’re gonna make sure that doesn’t happen, yeah? You know what you have to do. Get on with it already.”

Liam closes his eyes again and Noel watches as he tries to work his middle finger in. He’s not doing a very good job, and as he bites his lip, Noel feels a pang of sadness in his chest, recognizing just how hard Liam’s trying; how fucking much he wants to please his big brother, wants him to be proud of what he can do. So he reaches down and tilts Liam’s hips up a bit, resting them against his own knees, spreading him open to make it easier on the younger man.

“Does that help?” he whispers.

“Yes,” Liam chokes out, and Noel sees tears welling at the corners of his eyes. He brings his eyes back down, and Liam finally gets his middle finger in alongside the first, wincing a bit in pain.

“It hurts, doesn’t it,” Noel says softly, rubbing his thumb soothingly along Liam’s rim, along his fingers.

“Y-yeah. Fuck. I can’t- too much-“

“Don’t you dare take them out.” His voice comes out lethal. “Push ‘em deeper.”

Despite his protests, Liam obeys. His face is screwed up with the effort, split lip bitten back open and blood beading on it, smeared against his teeth. Noel leans down to lick it up, kissing Liam briefly, feeling his desperate little _mmh_ more than he hears it. 

“That’s a good boy. Now I know you don’t wanna,” Noel moves his head to whisper in his ear, “but you gotta take three for me.”

“You can- oh- you can fuck off.” Liam’s cock is leaking relentlessly against his belly as he rubs his spot, dripping down his side onto the rug. “‘m not doing that.”

“Oh, yes you are.” Noel wrenches the singer’s jaw open, shoving three fingers inside his mouth to shut him up. “I’m getting a bit fuckin’ sick of your backtalk, now.”

Liam bites down on his fingers, spitting them out defiantly. “Then fuck me already! Or are you too fuckin’ old to get it up anymore?”

Noel ignores the taunt. “Not when you’re being a fucking smartarse. I don’t want to hear you talking like that again. Or you’ll fuckin pay, I swear.”

“Oh yeah? _How?_ ”

He fixes Liam with a stony expression. “I’ll choke you on my cock again. Then I’ll smack your stupid arse till it’s fuckin’ bruised. Till you can’t sit down right for a week- till Debbie asks why you’re walking funny.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “As if you’d really do all that.”

“Oh, I will, trust you me… but you know it doesn’t have to happen. Not if you wise up and start behaving.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m stupid!”

“Stop acting like you _are_.” Noel moves his hand to slap Liam lightly across the back of his thigh, bringing it back to hold him open again afterwards. “You know I’ll treat you nice if you behave.”

“Fuck you.”

“Three. _Now._ I won’t tell you again.”

Liam mutters under his breath, and Noel has half a mind to make him repeat whatever he’s just said, but they’ve been arguing for too long now and he really, _really_ wants to speed it up. Needs to be inside. He drizzles some more lube onto Liam’s fingers, pulling him open as wide as he can, and exhales in relief as his brother’s ring finger joins the other two inside.

“Jesus Christ- hurts, Noel, _fuck_.”

“Yeah, I bet it does.” Noel hides his satisfied smirk. “Now I need you to push ‘em in a bit further- get your knuckles in there. Gotta make sure you’re stretched enough,” he directs. “And then you can pull ‘em out a bit and touch that spot like I know you want to. Alright?”

Liam looks like he’s in too much pain to respond, blood smeared all over his lips while he nods. He does as Noel says, crying out as he stretches out his tightness. Noel leans down to kiss him softly, murmuring in his ear _it’s alright, Liam, shhh, you’re doing so well, you’re alright, you’re almost there_. He cups Liam’s face and pulls back.

“You’re being so good for me,” he says with a calm, approving smile. “Just one more thing, and you can have a break, okay?”

Liam leaks more pathetic tears out of his squeezed-shut eyes. “I’m not fuckin’ puttin’ another one in, don’t care what you do to me, I’m _not_.”

“No, no,” Noel chuckles. “Not that.”

“ _What,_ then,” Liam spits, opening his eyes to glare up at his brother. “What do you fuckin’ want?”

Noel smiles softly at him again, making sure it’s genuine, rubbing his hands over his brother’s shoulders, down his sides. “You’re gonna make yourself come.”

 **⸎⸎⸎**  

 _I broke your heart last week_  
_You’ll probably feel better by the weekend_  
_Still remember, had you going crazy_  
_Screaming my name  
_ _The feeling deep down is good_

**⸎⸎⸎**

“What?”

“You… are going… to make… yourself… _come_.” There’s no malice in his words, but Liam surely knows he’s not fucking around. “For me.”

“Don’t you want me to fucking last?”

“Oh, you’ll be getting off again, don’t you worry,” Noel laughs. “But I wanna see you come on your fingers right now. Without touching your dick.”

“I can’t do that anymore,” Liam says, looking apologetic and it makes Noel’s chest feel too tight.

(He used to get there so easily, back when he was young and his refraction time was practically nonexistent; could come on Noel’s cock or his fingers just from the pressure on his prostate.)

“Really. Have you tried, then?”

Liam’s face flushes pretty pink. “Noel,” he mumbles, “c’mon.”

“How about I get you started?” The guitarist gives in, can’t fucking wait another second, and wraps his hand around Liam’s throbbing cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Liam groans out, “Fuck, yeah...”

“Lookin’ so sweet for me, fuckin’ yourself like a desperate little slag. So good, Liam, fuck.”

The stimulation on Liam’s prostate keeps his cock dripping steadily, his stomach absolutely soaked now, like Noel hasn’t seen it since- fuck, he can’t even remember. Liam moans and moans and chokes out Noel’s name, and before he knows it, he’s whining _fuck, Noel, keep going, ‘m gonna come-_

Before he gets there, making sure to pull off quick enough that he doesn’t ruin Liam’s orgasm - he’s not _that_ cruel - Noel lets go of him.

“You gonna come for me now?”

Liam nods, breathing heavy; keeps curling his fingers inside himself until he cries out, throat going hoarse, and comes untouched. His cock throbs and twitches up and down while he makes even more of a mess on his belly, back arching. “Noel,” he breathes out as his tense body slowly relaxes, “Fuckin’ _shit._..”

Noel watches with rapt eyes as Liam’s hole throbs helplessly, pushing out the younger man’s fingers, and he groans as he sees the result. 

“Jesus, Liam. If you could fuckin’ see yourself...” He reaches down to the fucked-open hole, gently rubbing his thumb against it. Liam clenches then opens back up, dripping out lube and clearly oversensitive as he whimpers and wriggles away from the touch. Noel moves his hand over the singer’s stomach and scoops up as much of Liam’s cum as he can, smearing it down between his cheeks. Liam shivers and curses under his breath, Noel’s chest filling with pride as he looks down at his brother.

“Fuckin’ love seein’ you like this. You’re a mess.”

“God, gimme a second...”

Noel shakes his head, even though Liam can’t see him. He lowers the singer’s bent legs to the floor, smiling as they fall right back open, muscles slack.

“Hands and knees.”

Liam laughs. “As _if_. D’you see me? Can’t fuckin’ move.”

“I’ll hold you up.” Noel rolls him over onto his stomach, smirking at the thought of Liam’s cum sticking to the rug. He strokes his brother’s sweaty back, comforted by his warmth, the smoothness of his skin.

“Seriously, Noel, don’t put it in yet... you said I get a break,” he pouts, turning his head to look up at the guitarist the best he can. His blue eyes are still watering a bit, but his face looks relaxed and tranquil.

“You sore?”

“What d’you think?”

“Mm.” Noel spreads him back open. He’s nice and tight again.

“Cunt- fucking _wait_!”

“Shh. It’s not time yet, calm down.”

“Then what are you-“

“You were good for me. And good boys get rewarded, don’t they?”

Liam looks at Noel questioningly as the older man scoots down so he’s lying on his stomach, too. “What the fuck are you on ab- _fuck!_ ”

The singer moans languidly as Noel drags his tongue over his hole. 

“ _Noel, Noel-_ ”

His tongue moves slowly, surely, cleaning Liam up. He swallows it down, doesn’t even care if he’s disgracing himself – not that Liam cares either. He’s groaning his brother’s name endlessly, like it’s the only word he remembers, and when Noel seals his lips and fucking _sucks_ , Liam cries out louder than he’s done all night, almost screaming.

“Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

Noel has no intention of stopping. Can’t even consider it. He finds himself completely devoted to Liam’s pleasure, and in the moment all the pain melts away, all the years of anger and resentment, it’s all meaningless, because nothing compares to the way Liam whines his name, the way he pushes his hips up shakily like he still wants more. Noel pulls him apart a bit further, pushing his tongue inside, thrusting it in and out while his little brother practically fucking _sobs_ for him.

Liam shakes his head back and forth, whimpering _fuck Noel fuck Noel fuck_ and Noel smirks internally at how near and how far it is from the _fuck you, Noel_ he’s become so accustomed to.

He leaves another long, slow lick and smacks a kiss against Liam’s hole before pulling away.

“Y’like that, huh?”

His brother shudders and exhales into the rug beneath him. “Forgot what tha’ felt like, man.”

“Well, y’know what _I_ seem to remember?”

“Wh-what.”

“How ready it always got you. How ready to be _fucked._ ”

Sweet, big blue eyes meet his from below. “Noel.”

“Hmm?”

“…do it s’more, first?”

Noel smiles, figures he can give in a bit. He doesn’t say a word, just leans back down and goes right back to work, stroking his thumbs over Liam’s skin as he does it. He’s pleased to feel the singer’s body relax, his opening becoming pliant underneath Noel’s tongue.

“Please, please, please, please, _please-_ ”

“Sshh, you slag… d’you want the neighbors to hear?” It’s more for show than it is practical, because of course Noel knows Liam is plenty rich and the walls are plenty thick and they are pleasantly alone.

But Liam keeps changing. He’s eighteen again, and he still lives with their mother, and he doesn’t have a band and nobody cares who he is.

(Noel cared. Noel would tell everyone on Earth how he doesn’t give a _fuck_ about the kid, and nobody will ever say it to his face, but they _all_ think at some point, _why does he always go on about him?_ )

**⸎⸎⸎**

_“They said I’m_ obsessed _with you.”_

_“What?”_

_“Michael, and Connor, and them- they said I gotta stop bringin’ you up.”_

_Liam is twelve years old, and more and more lately Noel finds himself thinking that the boy only gets more insufferable each day._

_And more and more lately it seems Liam’s taunting is beginning to be swirled with something twisted, something that_ could _be sweet and innocent on a normal day. In a normal mind. When it’s not directed towards your own fucking brother. Liam has no idea just how dark and dangerous it is, because he doesn’t even bat an eye when he fucking – God, it kills Noel to say it, but sometimes he could swear the kid is_ flirting _with him._

_Not on purpose, of course. As easy as it’d be to tell himself that Liam is doing it just to make him miserable, he knows he’s not. It’s all innocuous at this point, and Noel wonders if this happens to all siblings with such an age gap – if the childlike hero-worship and emulation always morphs into a juvenile little crush. Surely it does. Surely it will pass._

_(It doesn’t, he tells himself five years later, as he fucks his baby brother up against the wall, standing in the bathtub with lukewarm water all over their skin; it_ won’t _pass, he begrudgingly accepts as he makes a mess deep inside Liam’s body.)_

_“They said I’m a weirdo, Noel,” Liam frowns. “But I just- just love you, like.”_

_“They’re right.”_

_“What?”_

_“You_ are _a weirdo,” Noel taunts, as if he isn’t one himself._

_“’m not!”_

_“Yeah y’are.”_

_Noel’s joking, well – kind of, but it’s not malicious – but Liam takes it so seriously, he takes_ everything _so seriously. “You’re a dick! At least- least I don’t play the fuckin’ guitar! Weirdo! You wank off to those pictures on your Smiths records-”_

_And that’s fucking enough for him. The older brother pushes Liam firmly off the side of his bed, landing him on the floor in a crumpled heap and making him cry out._

_“I hate you!” Liam gets up and takes Noel’s football, throwing it at him, throwing a shoe, throwing a pack of cigarettes and a jacket and another shoe and his bookbag. It’s hard to see in the midst of his erratic movements, but the stupid little kid is crying._

_He tries not to, he knows Liam will hate him for it but he can’t help himself – as Noel ducks the third shoe, he laughs._

_Liam gasps like Noel’s insulted everything dear to him, shouts “Wanker!” and leaves the room, throwing up the V behind him and slamming the door. He_ hates _being laughed at, hates it more than nearly anything else Noel could do to him._

_Which is precisely why he does it._

_Noel stops laughing and he feels empty and he wonders if he should have told Liam that people thought he himself was obsessed, too._

**⸎⸎⸎**

“I don’t care if they hear,” Liam rasps out. “They’d be jealous, anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“C’mon, fuck, don’t keep me waitin’…”

(As if Noel could bear to wait a second longer.)

He gazes longingly at his brother’s swollen, dripping, prepped hole one last time and sighs before taking his cock in his hand and, without warning, beginning to push the tip inside.

Liam freaks out right away. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“…I’m fucking you. Was that not obvious?”

“No, no-”

“Will you just let me try? You’re wetter than you think you are, y’know.”

Noel swears under his breath as he sees Liam reaching behind himself to rub a fingertip lightly over his hole, gasping as he does. _Because I’m right._ And then his brother’s looking up and around at him, pleading and silently saying _you can go ahead now. Just be careful._

“Y’know I’m gonna take good care of you, love,” Noel whispers in his ear as he covers Liam’s body with his own, before he straightens up and pushes inside, halfway to the base.

Unfortunately, he _wasn’t_ right. Liam sucks in all his breath and throws a hand back, using all the effort he can muster to push Noel out of him.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Liam as he retreats. “God. S’alright.” He strokes the singer’s lower back as he uses one hand to fumble open the lube, again, slicking up his cock as he watches Liam squirm, and he wastes no time in going right back in.

“ _Fuck!_ ’ Liam’s shouting again, now, and his voice is a fucking octave higher than normal. “Oh, fuck, Noel…”

“Hurts? Or feels good?”

“B-both. _Mmm-_ ”

“Fuck, you’re so tight. _Christ._ ”

The guitarist pushes in further, shoving each inch inside with short, sharp thrusts. Liam’s mouth is hanging open and his eyes are squeezed shut as Noel finally gets all the way in and spends a moment with his pelvis flush against Liam’s arse.

“D’you know how fuckin’ good you look right now?”

“Noel…”

“All filled up again. You must’ve missed this, huh?”

“Fuck… just…”

“Your fingers haven’t been enough all these years, have they.”

Liam grits his teeth, hissing, “Shut up and _fuck_ me already.”

It’s not often he takes orders from Liam, rarely has his whole life, but of _course_ there are times where their priorities overlap. So Noel does as he says. He keeps a firm grasp on Liam’s hips, pulling out and giving his brother just a second to hold his breath before he plunges right back in. Liam fucking – he _yelps_ as Noel’s length rubs against his prostate as it enters, and Noel digs the heel of his palm into the singer’s back to arch his hips up a bit, only positioning him even better to hit that spot.

“Talk to me, Liam, c’mon.” Noel’s far too close to coming, and if he’s gonna lose it, he wants it to at least be during some rather fulfilling dirty talk from Liam.

“Feels- feels good, Noel…”

“Yeah? Tell me more. Tell me what you like about it.”

“Like… like how much you fill me up. ‘n how… you’re, like, _warm…_ ”

“You’re fuckin’ warm, too, kid.”

Liam moans helplessly and pushes his hips into Noel’s movements, fucking lost in his own pleasure. Noel figures it was the tongue that got him so overstimulated. Well, good. He knew it’d work, anyway – his mouth had always loosened Liam up like nothing else could.

The younger man’s hole tightens and clenches around him and Noel groans from the back of his throat. “ _Fuck,_ Liam. Do that again.” Liam obeys and whines while he does it, white-knuckled on his own bathroom rug and Noel glances behind himself, pleased to see Liam’s toes flexing. “D’you need something else, darling?”

“Yes. _Shit._ Touch- touch me. C’mon, you- you fucker- _oh-_ ”

Noel plays with his balls a bit, first, cupping them, slowly rolling his palm around. This part of Liam had never gotten much attention from him, but he intends this to be the last time they do this – _good luck with that,_ his subconscious whispers – so he wants to give Liam more than he would’ve in the past.

He moves on to his brother’s cock, then, resisting the urge to moan as he feels how his tip is dripping again. Noel had learned how to touch his own spot before he hit nineteen, but he never knew that some blokes could leak the way Liam does, not until later. He’d only slept with one other who did; but he wasn’t nearly as pretty as his little brother was.

Digging his hips in, Noel lets himself rut in deep as he strokes Liam languidly, his ears overflowing with the noises Liam’s stifling against the fabric beneath his face.

“Come for me. Again. I know you can.”

Gasping and whimpering, Liam grinds his own hips back against Noel, once, twice, three times, fucking himself against his brother’s cock, and then he’s gone.

He pants _Noel, Noel_ while he lets go, slack mouth smearing spit against the rug and when he opens his eyes he sees Noel watching and he looks like he’s melting, and his magnetism draws Noel’s head down and brings their lips together.

Noel pulls away and slaps Liam’s arse as hard as he can with his cum-covered palm.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Liam looks at him annoyed but he’s too knackered to really do anything about it. “You freak.”

“Gonna let me come inside you?” Noel pulls his brother’s hips up a bit, feeling the way Liam’s body seems ready to collapse after his second orgasm of the night. Rationally, he knows he should feel heavy to hold up, but he’s _weightless_ somehow – and after the initial tensing, his muscles have relaxed completely; leaving his hole loose, letting the older man in easy, the swollen rim looking obscenely beautiful to Noel in his haze of lust.

“Do it,” Liam huffs, like he’s double-daring him to.

Just like Liam, Noel’s always loved a good challenge.

(Not that this _is_ one, really – getting off inside the slick heat of his brother isn’t difficult in the slightest. Never has been.)

“Almost there,” Noel murmurs as he feels Liam shift, his overused body probably protesting a bit now, sensitive to the intrusion. “Just-”

“ _Please,_ Noel,” Liam whispers, and their eyes meet, and that’s fucking _it._

Suddenly he’s changing, even more than he already was, and he’s Sara, and he’s Liam, and he’s Sara, and he’s Liam. And he’s Liam, he’s Louise – he’s Liam, he’s Meg, he’s Sara, he’s Liam again and Clint and Louise and Sara and Diane and _Patsy_ and the girl he’d lost his virginity to, and an anonymous male face on an unfamiliar body, and he’s Liam, he’s Liam, _he’s Liam_ –

Noel grits his teeth and drags his nails down Liam’s back savagely, making him cry out, hard enough to leave marks; if they were any longer, he’d be drawing blood, he’s sure. He almost wishes he was, fucking _needs_ to stake his claim on the singer, and he compromises on leaning over to bite and suck at the flesh of Liam’s shoulder as his hips stutter and he feels himself coming.

It’s more of a relief than anything he’s done in quite a while. He rides it out, lets Liam’s body milk it all out of him while he thrusts in, out, in, out a few times as his cock slowly softens.

When he pulls out, his baby brother’s moaning quietly, and Noel swears silently as he admires the way he’s used the man beneath him.

“Fucking- close yourself up, Jesus, Liam. Don’t let it all slip out. I want some of me inside you still.”

“I… I-”

“Fuckin’- y’look like you’re just… waiting to take another fucking cock.” He traces his fingertips over the fading handprint on Liam’s backside, still sticky from what he left there. “Would you scream like a slut for that one, too?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Liam mumbles, averting his eyes. He squeezes them shut as Noel pushes the pad of his thumb against the pink furl of his hole, tutting and shaking his head as he pulls away and a rope of cum drips out.

“Can’t even keep it inside, can you?”

“Don’t- don’t talk to me like that, man.” Liam sounds defeated and it almost hurts.

Noel digs his nails into his palms almost involuntarily as the rest of his release leaks out of Liam’s quivering body, watching as the kid – _is he still a kid?_ – lets himself collapse to the floor, exhausted beyond belief. He feels a pang of compassion deep in his stomach.

He swallows the fear rising in his throat. “…you were fuckin’… just. Did great for me, y’know.”

“…I know. I know.”

“Good.”

**⸎⸎⸎**

_All the things I didn’t mean to say_  
_I didn’t mean to do_  
_There were things you didn’t need to say_  
_Did you mean to?  
_ _Me too_

**⸎⸎⸎**

He brushes two fingers against the newly-forming bruise on Liam’s shoulder, both of them humming contentedly.

“I ‘ave to go home,” Noel whispers, the tone of his voice betraying his regret – regret not for what they’ve just done, but for the fact that he has to leave, can’t stay with Liam forever. But the sweetness of the night is quickly turning over into ice, too.

Liam rolls over onto his back, siting up on his elbows. “Fucking _why?_ C’mon… stay with me. You live here too.” It’s a plaintive whine, one which Noel is all too familiar with.

The older brother’s face contorts into confusion for a moment. “The fuck are you on about? Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’ve got a missus waiting for me. You had your fun. Debbie will be home soon, anyway.”

“Who?”

“Very funny.” Noel looks around for his shirt, forgetting the state it’s in until he picks it up from where it’s been discarded by the bedroom door. “God, I’m gonna make you pay me back for this, I swear.”

“With what?” Liam laughs, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you next time I come over, I swear, Noely.”

(He hasn’t heard that nickname come out of his mouth in so long that it catches him off guard, makes his blood run a little faster and his stomach flip.)

The guitarist throws his tattered button-down at Liam, still lying on the rug. “ _Next_ time?”

“…seriously, man, it’s late, just stay here,” Liam whines. “I know my bed’s too small bu’ I want- fuck, Noel, haven’t had you here in so long.” He frowns, his eyes drooping.

Noel glances at the California king-size to his right and wonders whether Liam’s lost his mind.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t mean it, he thinks. “Really am.” Not one bit, he promises himself.

“Will you come back soon?”

He can’t think of a good answer so he says nothing; goes to Liam’s closet to find a shirt to wear. It seems like half the clothes hanging up are things he himself owns, but he figures they _must_ shop in the same stores sometimes. Besides, Liam’s been copying him for what, forty-five years now, so it makes sense. He finds a soft black t-shirt with a pocket on the front, simple enough. _And not Pretty Green. Thank God._

(As he pulls it over his head, he can’t help but notice how the collar smells just like _him,_ and further, how his little brother’s smell has barely changed since the day they first kissed.)

“Mam said she misses you.”

“I’m sure… _every_ body misses me. I’ve been on tour, remember?”

“Yeah. No.”

“I’ve got to get going.”

Liam glares at him, somehow managing to look depressed and enraged at the same time. “Don’t go on tour again. I don’t like them cunts you hang around with.”

Noel finds he’s too disoriented to even argue back. “Goodnight, Liam-”

“Will you come and see my band play?” It’s abrupt – would probably catch Noel off guard if he hadn’t known Liam for his entire life.

“…alright,” he says, if only to shut the singer up. It’s useless to waste time on this diversion. His brother’s words are slurring a bit and he wonders if he just didn’t notice before and feels sick to his stomach, Jesus, _has he been drunk this whole time?_

“At the Boardwalk. We’re the bollocks, I swear, you’ll see.”

 _The Boardwalk. You’re having a go._ He plays along anyway. “Your songs any good?”

“Yeah. Could be better, though.”

“Hmm. You need better songwriters. Or maybe you could actually put some effort in, write ‘em yourself?”

“I do!”

“You sure you don’t have any help?”

“Well... Bonehead writes the guitar parts, y’know. But I, like, help, ‘n that.”

“...yeah,” Noel sighs, and he thinks his words might be slurring now, too. He doesn’t remember drinking. He has to get home. He thinks he might be ill. He’s had enough of this – “Alright, kid. Leaving now.”

“Cunt,” the younger man mumbles, disappointment evident on his face, as though he’d actually expected to win. “G’is a kiss, then, c’mon.”

Noel leans down to meet his lips, a chaste, fleeting thing.

Liam tastes like bubblegum and cigarettes.  


**⸎⸎⸎  
**

_“Noel…”_

_He doesn’t hear him the first time, not really. The kid’s voice sort of weaves its way into the last wisps of whatever dream he’d been having, gradually drawing him out of it._

_“Noel!”_

_His voice sounds nearer than it should be; he_ should _be across the room. But when Noel opens an eye, there he is, perched on the edge of the older boy’s bed, leaning over him._

_“Noel-”_

_“Fuck-_ what? _What d’you want?”_

_“Had a bad dream,” Liam whines._

_“’s that right.” Noel turns over to face the wall. “Go back to bed.”_

_He gets hit in the shoulder for his response. “Fucker! Said I had a bad dream! Aren’t you gonna ask me what it was about?!”_

_With the way he’s behaving, you’d think Liam was eight; but no, he’s fifteen. Much too old for all this nonsense._

_(It happens too often.)_

_“I don’t_ care _what it was about,” Noel states evenly. “And I’m not in the mood for one of your stupid guessing games.”_

_“Shut up, you dick. Was about-”_

_“Y’know,_ some _of us have got work in the morning, you cunt. Let me sleep or I’ll fuckin’ knock you out.” His words are sleepy and lack any real threat, and he finds himself giving in to Liam, as he does sometimes these days._

_“Somebody died,” Liam says abruptly._

_“…what?”_

_“In- in my dream, right. Somebody, like, from Ireland or summat. We was there. And all the family.”_

_He goes silent for a moment, and Noel just sits there with him inside that silence. He has the instinct to hold Liam’s hand but doesn’t let himself follow it through._

_“Noel,” he whispers sadly._

_Noel furrows his brows. “What is it, kid.”_

_“You were there… you were there. ‘cross the room. We were… the same age. Somehow. An’- I tried to talk to you but… you couldn’t hear me- or, like,_ wouldn’t _, maybe. Dunno.” He screws his face up, eyes darting upwards as he tries to recall more of that fast-fading memory. “Mam said… Mam said you didn’t want to talk to me.”_

_“Why’s that?”_

_“Don’t_ know, _” Liam says, sounding wrecked, devastated. It was only a dream but from his demeanor one could swear it was real. The frown on his face seems permanent. “You… God, Noel.”_

_He buries his head against his brother’s shoulder and Noel doesn’t push him away._

_“You didn’t like me anymore.”_

_“Shhh.”_

_“Do you- fuck. You’re_ not _gonna stop talking to me. Won’t fucking let you, alright?”_

_“Okay,” Noel murmurs. Liam squirms against his side until he’s gotten comfortable, and before he knows it, the kid’s fallen right back asleep. In his arms._

_He brushes his hair back a bit, the way he used to do when Dad would come home. Even though it was Noel, Paul, Peggy who really needed the comforting – Liam was so broken, too, back then. Little Liam. The boy who felt too much._

_As his brother’s started to grow up – he’s not a virgin anymore, his voice doesn’t crack much, he’s even got hair growing on his face – so much of Noel has been consumed by that sick desire, the one he knows Liam lives with, too. But he doesn’t feel any of that right now. He feels a lost little boy in his arms, afraid and alone inside his head, whose nightmares tell him he hasn’t got a family. Whose nightmares tell him he hasn’t got_ Noel.

 _(And it’s so fucked up – the way the elder knows that, regrettably,_ he _is what his brother wants to have, more than anything, anyone else on Earth. To_ have _. In every possible sense of the word.)_

_Noel finds himself relieved that all he can feel right now is a normal, natural, familial caring for the body beside him. He falls back asleep, himself, but only after nearly an hour of these little acts of comfort; fingers in his hair, light kisses on the top of his head, soothing his brother and absently hoping the kid will somehow feel it, even while he’s lost in the fog of sleep._

**⸎⸎⸎**

It’s five in the morning when Noel wakes up in a cold sweat. He almost forgets where he is – the ceiling looks unfamiliar, _why the fuck’s that,_ before remembering the night he’s just had, and oh God, oh God – Sara sleeping to his left – he thinks he’s going to be fucking sick.

Rushing to the bathroom, he prays to a nonexistent creator that he hasn’t got any lovebites on his neck; he doesn’t remember Liam giving him any, but then again, he doesn’t remember enough about the night. Much less than he’s comfortable with.

_Was I drunk?_

He can’t even remember how he got to Liam’s house. The more he thinks about it, he can’t for the life of him recall where Liam’s house even _is._

_Was he?_

His button-down is lying in a pile with his socks and jeans on the rug beneath his feet. And it’s not torn. And the buttons are all there, he counts them once, twice, three times, and there’s no blood to be seen.

He can’t remember how he got home.

 _Bubblegum and cigarettes._ He’d kissed Liam on the lips, and then… he’d left? Had he? He must have – he’s home, he must have left. _What?_ He’s going to be sick. This is his house. This is his home.

_Mam said she misses you._

Noel doesn’t even know where Liam is.

How many people had he been the night before? How many years? How many times had Noel fucked him? How many times had they kissed, how often had they held hands – how many hotel room beds did they fall asleep in together? _Where and when? Who and what? And above all else, why?_

God, he feels dizzy, his legs are shaking and he sits on the edge of the tub to steady himself, eyes wide and unblinking – how many times did Louise tell him Liam was bad for him, that he should get away from him for his own good. _Too many._ And Meg. _So many._ And Sara –

_And I listened._

How many times had Liam elbowed his way right into Noel’s dreams?

He’s still trembling and he goes back into the bedroom. He realizes he’s shirtless, and he realizes the black tee doesn’t exist, and Liam’s smell doesn’t exist. _Not here, at least._ He wonders if it’s still the same, in real life, and somehow, he just _knows_ it is.

Reaching for his mobile perched on the bedside table, Noel sits down softly on the edge of the bed, sighing. He’s careful not to wake Sara – doesn’t care to explain to her the state he’s in. She doesn’t even know he dreams about Liam.

 _J, K, L. Liam._ No last name. There was no need.

No matter how many times he deletes the contact, it always ends up back in his phone. Sometimes he gets it off his mother’s; usually, he scrolls down in his messages and there it is, an unassigned number. A one-sided conversation, full of _Happy birthday Rkid_ or _Happy Christmas you Scrooge_ or sometimes just a random string of letters. Noel’s given up trying to decide if those are pocket-texts or deliberate pokes in the arm.

He’s blocked the number before, when he’s feeling particularly resentful. Sometimes it stays that way for months on end, and he wonders how many texts were sent in that span of time that never made it through.

_Liam_

_Edit_

_Delete Contact_

Noel plugs the phone in and sets it back on the nightstand. Taking a pill bottle out of the top drawer, he swallows a Halcion and lays back down.

Just like every other night that he’s dreamt of Liam, he squeezes his eyes shut, counting to a hundred and forty-nine before he can feel himself dozing off; and though he’s never been one for prayer, his mind begs the universe _take me back to him, just for a bit,_ no matter _how_ much he tells it not to.

 **⸎⸎⸎**  
  
_I could dream all night, dream all night_  
_I’ve been dreaming all night, dreaming all night_  
_I’ve been dreaming_  
_Dreaming_

**Author's Note:**

> im so FUCKING sorry i went with like, the worst cliche possible! but without it everything became even more perilously OOC and i just. i had to rationalize it somehow lmao
> 
> pleeeeeeeease comment and lmk if you liked this (or even if you didnt!) comments mean so much to me
> 
> :^) thanks for reading my absurdly long story! yall's feedback is the only reason i continue posting, thanks a million for all your support <3
> 
> EDIT: legit JUST found this quote from frank on the aforementioned song ivy, and it fits with this work eerily well?!  
> “That was my version of collage or bricolage, how we experience memory sometimes, it’s not linear. We’re not telling the stories to ourselves, we know the story, we’re just seeing it in flashes overlaid.”


End file.
